The Alliance's shield wall remained tightly closed without a gap. The villagers who were still trying to break through were finally forced to step back step by step. Some fell, while others pulled their comrades away from the line of soldiers.
Several soldiers staggered while clutching their arms and shoulders, bruised from thrown stones. On the other side, a number of villagers collapsed after being struck by shield pushes and baton blows. However, no one was truly attempting to break through anymore.
Their gazes slowly lifted toward the stage.
Randu was already hanging.
There was nothing left for them to save.
It felt as if something had collapsed inside everyone's chest. A hum of weeping echoed from all directions. Some villagers knelt, some covered their faces with both hands, while others just stared blankly, unable to speak a word. The rage that had once blazed was now transformed into a heart-wrenching sorrow.
"Enough..." said a man with his head bowed. "It's all too late. We will never be able to fight the Alliance."
A man squatting beside him spoke up, "In that case, it is the law that must be changed."
The Alliance formation remained standing firm in its place. Not a single one pursued the crowd, nor did they respond to the anger with brutality. They merely maintained their defensive line, while the chilly early morning was filled with weeping and a silence that felt far more painful than the clash earlier.
After the situation was fully under control, an Alliance officer raised his hand to give a command.
"Bring him down."
Two Alliance soldiers stepped forward toward Randu's body. Carefully, they untied the knot around his neck and lowered him slowly so he would not hit the ground.
Once at the bottom, one of them, dressed in a neat white beskap uniform, knelt down. With gentle movements, he smoothed Randu's clothes, which were rumpled from the execution, then straightened both of his arms across his chest. His comrade closed the youth's eyes with the tips of his fingers.
Not a single person uttered a word.
Several soldiers then lifted Randu's body onto a prepared stretcher. A white cloth was spread over his body up to his chest before they carried him away from the courtyard with calm steps, to be handed over to his family tomorrow.
Little by little, the field began to empty. The crowd of villagers dispersed with heavy footsteps, leaving behind a trail of grief they were not yet ready to accept.
All that remained were scattered stones, a few shields, patches of blood on the ground, and a length of rope still swaying gently in the dawn wind.